The Best Pancakes
by chimingofthebells
Summary: Merlin is gone, so it's up to Arthur to take care of their son.


**AN: It's weird that I feel weird if I go too long without killing Merlin, so here's a little thing. :) thanks for reading**

* * *

"Daddy, when's Papa coming home?"

"Not for a while, sweetheart."

"The doctors said he was going somewhere nice. Where's that?"

"Somewhere far away from here."

"Can we go visit him?"

"No, we can't."

"Why not? Does he not want us with him in the nice place?"

"Of course not. Papa loves you very much, but he isn't somewhere we can see him."

"Where's that?"

"Listen, I'm sorry but you won't be able to see him anymore. But you know what? Papa is here with you, right now. He's always with you."

"I thought he was in the nice place."

"He is. But he's also here with you because he loves you very much."

"Can he make me pancakes?"

"No."

"Papa always makes me pancakes."

"You really like Papa's pancakes, don't you?"

"I love Papa's pancakes!"

"But Papa won't be able to make you pancakes anymore. That doesn't mean you love them any less, right? You still remember what they taste like. As long as you remember Papa he'll be with you."

"Okay."

"Papa loves you very much, and so does Daddy."

"Okay."

"Good."

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Can you make me pancakes instead?"

"Of course I can."

* * *

Arthur closed the door to Gwydre's room and moved down the hall to his own room. The flat was silent with Gwydre asleep, and now the world seemed too large and too small all at once.

He stood in the middle of his room. The floor was bare, the

It's too empty, too clean, the bed too big. Arthur hates the bedspread, but Merlin had picked it out. One year later, Arthur still can't bring himself to replace it.

Arthur flicks off the light and gets into bed, grabbing the extra pillow and burrowing his face into it. He inhales, searching for a scent that was fading every time Arthur tried to find it. One day it would be gone.

Merlin always got the cheapest shampoo. He claimed it really didn't matter either way, so what was the point of spending so much money on it? He laughed when Arthur pointed out that Merlin had no problem spoiling a certain little boy.

Arthur smiles into the pillow, remembering the day they brought Gwydre home, wrapped up in blankets and staring up at them with bright curious eyes. They'd carried him all around the flat, showing him every room of his new home. They ended up on the living room floor just holding him, giddy and glowing for the future that lay before them.

"Daddy?" There's a small voice, and then there's Arthur's five-year-old son standing in the doorway, dressed in one of Merlin's old T shirts for bed and clutching an overstuffed dragon.

"What is it, Gwydre?" Arthur sits up, squinting through the darkness.

"I had a bad dream," the little boy confesses, shuffling his feet, "Can I sleep here tonight?"

Arthur holds out his arms. "Sure, little man. Hop on in."

Gwydre all but runs across the room and leaps onto the bed, burrowing under the covers and wrapping himself around Arthur, with the dragon squashed in between them.

"I miss Papa," Gwydre says quietly.

"Me too," Arthur says. Merlin was always better suited to handling Gwydre's monsters under the bed. "Want to tell me about the dream?"

"I was outside, and I was scared because it was raining really hard, and…" Gwydre launches into a tale of monsters and things that would be scary to a little boy, and Arthur rubs circles on his back and listens. He's about to drift off just as Gwydre's speech becomes thick with drowsiness, when Gwydre shifts.

"Daddy?"

"Mm?"

"Can you make pancakes in the morning?"

"Will you eat fruit with it?"

"Okay."

"Then okay."

"You make the best pancakes."

Arthur smiles and kisses the top of Gwydre's head. He's already asleep, little feet pressed against Arthur's leg and his hands loosely clutching the dragon.

One day soon Gwydre won't remember his Papa very well. He won't remember the day his Papa went into the sky, leaving him behind. He won't have his Papa to make him pancakes in the mornings, but he'll have his Daddy, and that's just as good.

Arthur shifts so that he can see his son lying peaceful on the other pillow. to the sound of Gwydre's steady breathing, Arthur drifts off to sleep**. **


End file.
